


Tabula Rasa

by Reecey



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11230869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reecey/pseuds/Reecey
Summary: Something about Nora seemed wrong, she didn't remember things that a pre-war woman should.





	1. Chapter 1

He was starting to wonder if she was a synth.

It wasn’t because she was frozen for two hundred years, that all made sense in a perverse sort of way. Vault-Tec was Vault-Tec, after all, and there were few corporate entities with less scruples.

Hell, at least Pulowski’s just lied to people.

No, it was after they’d been travelling together for a while.

She was the only one who’d get his references, that he could talk to about everything pre-war.

But there were times where she gave him the exact same blank stare as Ellie or Marty.

A lot of times.

He thought about this, staring at the ceiling of the agency as he lay uselessly in his  bed at night, trying to work out how the swap could have happened, what it meant for her search for Shaun, what it meant for him…

A little part of him wanted it to be true.

If she was a synth too, then maybe, just maybe…

It didn’t take long before his better judgement stepped in and reminded him that if she was a synth, she’d be a gen three. Basically human, and better off with one of her own kind, a human or even a ghoul.

Not Hancock, though. He’d be a rusting bucket of metal parts before he let it be Hancock.

He wondered if he should bring it up with her, but decided against it.

She needed to find her son, and synth or not, she deserved to 

She didn’t need an upheaval like that again.

 

* * *

 

Kellogg rattled her.

It was only to be expected that he would. Revenge is a dish best served cold for a reason, the detachment made it easier to deal with.

But it wasn’t just killing him, facing him down and getting the bad news that Shaun was indeed in the grasp of the Institute.

It was this one last parting shot from him before she shot him at point blank range.

_“I’m surprised you even remember him.”_

Once the shock of the Brotherhood of Steel showing up wore off, she seemed to almost vibrate in rage as they headed back to Diamond City.

Holed up in a ruined house, with all the nearby hostiles dead, he tried to talk to her about it.

A gentle hand on her shoulder and a kind word.

He didn’t get very far, the touch almost acting like a release valve for all the anger and frustration that had been building up inside of her.

“It’s retrograde!” she snapped, not at him, but at the world in general. “Not anterograde. The stupid bastard read my medical file and can’t even tell the damn difference, and then he tries to insult me with it? He- he- how dare he?!”

Nick stared at her, jaw slack with surprise.

Did she, did she just say what he thought she did?

“Nora… sweetheart, do you… do you have _amnesia_?”

Her anger turned to embarrassment, shame.

She nodded.

“I know, retrograde amnesia, some real soap opera shit right there.”

This wasn’t even a possibility that had crossed his mind.

Some side effect of the cryogenics? Sure.

Trauma? Yeah, he could buy that.

Being a synth? That was common enough that even she could be one and not know it.

But an actual, genuine case of retrograde amnesia?

He knew enough to know that was incredibly rare. Anterograde, the inability to create new memories was more common than blank slate memory part way through life.

Apparently Kellogg did too.

“How long?”

“About, three, four years? Seventy three, I think. I was in a coma for a while.”

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug.

“Rough year for you too, huh?”

“I dunno, I can’t remember,” she said shakily, before burying her face into his shoulder and breaking out into tears.

She didn’t share anything more that night, too sad, and exhausted to say anything else, but she spilled her guts on the way back.

She’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, got shot in the crossfire of some gang war. They got her in the back, just like Jenny, and for the longest time everyone thought that she was going to end up paralysed.

Part of her thought that it would have been better than what did end up happening.

As she fell, she smacked her head in just the wrong place, combined with the trauma and the blood loss, this meant that when she woke up, he had no idea who she was, or who any of the people surrounding her were.

If it made one thing easier, it was the plastic surgery.

“Surgery? Why did you need that?”

“Apparently I did myself some real damage when I fell, and a dog took a chunk out of my face. They needed to rebuild it from the ground up. I don’t much look like I did before the incident anymore.”

Her story didn’t really add up, but he figured that they wanted to keep her safe, just in case some crazed gangster decided to finish her off.

That he could understand.

“Don’t sound the same either. Got a bad throat infection, made my voice all husky.”

“Damn, you really went through the ringer.”

“You can say that again, but it wasn’t all bad. I met Nate and it’s like my entire life turned around. Seems I had really horrible taste in men before.”

Nick shook his head, “I don’t believe that. You seem like a dame who knows what’s she wants, and more than knows how to handle herself.”

“Yeah, _now_ ,” she shot back, “but I’m not like I was before. I’m not like you, Nick. I got the same body with a different mind. I built this whole new identity around being Mrs Nathan Smith, it’s like Nora Lands never even existed.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her with even wider eyes than when she told him about the amnesia.

“Lands? Your maiden name is _Lands_?”

His brain was putting two and two together, and no matter how it tried to to make the math different, no matter how hard he tried to write this off as some kind of sick coincidence, all it could come up with was was four.

“Yeah,” she replied, turning to face him on the deserted, ruined road. She looked scared once she caught sight of him.

“Nick? What’s wrong? Nick?”

She strode over hurriedly, and god dammit, she had the same gait.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed that there was something of Jenny about her. Her height, her build, her colouring, the way she moved. But he’d mostly put that down to her being a pre-war dame and his own wishful thinking.

But now… everything was explained away.

She had amnesia, she got a new face, her voice changed, her name.

Her family never had liked him, refused to let him go to the funeral because it was his fault she’d died.

But there was no funeral, was there?

They whisked her off somewhere, and when she woke up not knowing anything, they systematically stripped her of her identity and hooked her up with some other guy.

How the hell could they do that to her?

But they were gone now, and it was just the two of them on a deserted road in the ruins of Massachusetts, and it was his job to make this right again.


	2. Chapter 2

She put her hands on his cheeks.

“Nicholas Archibald Valentine. Are. You. All. Right?” she demanded in the most matronly way she could manage.

“Sorry, doll, got caught up in my own thoughts then.”

Her hands moved to his shoulders as she sighed in relief.

“Good, I thought for a second that you were having a stroke or something.”

“Nothing like that.”

She squeezed his shoulders and dropped her hands.

“So, why is it important that my maiden name is Lands?”

He smiled ruefully, there was no way in hell that he was telling her what was going on here, so he was going to have to… fudge the truth a little.

“It’s a sad story for the road,” he warned her.

“Ah, well, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

She was too good for him, always was, always will be.

The perfect out, but he couldn’t help but try his luck.

“It was my fiancee’s name.”

Her eyes widened, “what happened to her?”

“She was shot in the back, just like you.”

“That’s terrible,” she breathed, “I’m so sorry, Nick.”

Her hands went back up to his shoulders, this time on the arm side of the joint.

“If… if you ever want to talk about it, just let me know. It’s… it's the very least I can do in return for everything you’ve done for me.”

He smiled, “you saved my synthetic hide from dying in Vault 114, I think you’re in credit, doll.”

She shook her head, “Ellie already paid me back for that in caps, you don’t owe me a damn thing for that deal.”

There was a dangerous edge to her eyes, and he felt like punching himself for not recognising that look in her eyes before. The look Jenny always gave him when she wanted him to stop feeling sorry for himself, or that first night together when she wasn’t going to take ‘you’re too good for a beaten up old cop like me’ for an answer.

Now, like every time before, he gave in, the little ball of heat in his lower stomach coming back for the first time since that last night together in seventy three.

“Okay,” he smiled, left hand lifting to rest on her upper arm.

Her look softened into one that was pure Nora.

A warm and guilt ridden gaze peeking up from under lowered lashes.

Guilt for the scumbag whose arms her mother had pushed her into, no doubt.

He lowered his hand and stuffed them both into his pockets.

Hers fell to her sides, one hand picking at a seam in her jumpsuit.

“I’ll… leave it for now, but… I do have one more question.”

“Yeah?”

“What was her first name?”

He should have said it calmly. ‘Jenny, she was Jennifer Lands’. But it came out more raw and needy.

An invitation more than an explanation.

“ _Jenny_.”

“Oh, _Nick_.”

She threw her arms around him and for a moment he thought that it was all over. That it had all come flooding back to her and she’d take his face between her hands and kiss him again, soft, slow and full of desperate need.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was the most fragile and precious thing in the world. Burying his face in her hair and closing his eyes, waiting for that kiss.

“I’m so, so _sorry_ ,” she breathed, “Nick, I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed his eyes tighter shut, fighting tears that couldn’t come for the sake of a kiss that never would.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered, processors going into overdrive to make his voice modulators crack his voice.

He felt tired, bone deep exhausted in a way he didn’t even think was possible anymore.

“If there’s anything I can do, _anything at all_ , you tell me. You hear me, Nick Valentine? _Anything_.”

“No Archibald this time?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I’m not scared this time, just concerned.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry so much, it was all a long time ago.”

She pulled back, “time doesn’t heal all wounds,” she said softly, tracing the edge of the hole in his neck.

He jerked away from her touch, pushing her away from him.

She winced as a few strands of hair were ripped out, caught on the jagged edge of the hole in his cheek.

What the hell had he been thinking?

He wasn’t Nick Valentine, he was just some old synth with the memories of a dead man knocking around in his head.

Who was _he_ , what _right_ did he have, to destroy her life like that?

The real Nick had already done it once, gotten her shot by Eddie Winter and making her lose her whole life as Jenny.

Now he wanted to taint everything she built as Nora?

For _what_ ? Just because she might fall into his arms, desperate for the touch of a man he _wasn't_ and had _never_ been, no matter how it felt?

She tried to apologise, but he waved it away.

“Don’t worry about it. Sometimes I just get too big for my boots, you just reminded me of it, that’s all.”

“I think you fit your boots just fine,” she said softly.

That tipped him over the edge, all his conflicting and raging emotions spilled over into focussing on that one little thing.

Something so _silly_ said so _seriously_.

He started laughing.

She looked hurt, but her couldn’t stop, laughing hard enough to feel like he had to clutch at his side.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he gasped, “it’s just… my boots?”

“Okay, it came out weird, but you know what I meant.”

“Yeah, thanks doll,” he smiled, the laughter dissipating.

She looked embarrassed.

“A-anyway, we should get going. Diamond City isn’t coming to us, after all.”

He nodded in agreement and the two started walking again in a slightly awkward, but pleasant silence.

“It’s Raymond,” he said, half a mile down the road.

“I’m sorry?”

“My middle name, it’s Raymond.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Hmm, Nicky Ray Valentine… makes you sound like a Country singer.”

“Can you really imagine me crooning like Hank Williams?” he asked with a smirk.

“I was thinking more like Johnny Cash. He seems more your style anyway.”

 He chuckled, “never really thought much about about it, but maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll put in a request with Travis, and you can see what I mean.”

“Sounds like a plan, doll.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to slip in some lyrics from this song, but there was no natural way to do so. So I'm linking it to hit you right in the feels anyway.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vt1Pwfnh5pc


	3. Chapter 3

It was being dragged out of his hands.

Out of his cold metal grasp and placed into hers, where it belonged.

It was hard, suggesting that they go to the Memory Den with the remnants of Kellogg’s brain, like her even just knowing that she might be able to get her life back was a death sentence to what little stability she had.

Even harder when Doctor Amari brought up her going into Kellogg’s head to see what they could find.

But it wasn’t his choice, it was hers.

It was _her_ son that the scumbag had taken, her husband that had been murdered, and her memories that could be unlocked for her.

This was her decision, and he had to stop pretending that it had anything to do with him.

“I’m getting some unusual readings from you, Mrs Smith,” Amari said, once they were settled into Kellogg’s brain.

“It’s nothing to be worried about, Doctor,” Nora had replied, her tone neutral, “I have retrograde amnesia.”

“Ah, I see. For now, let us finish what you came here for, and then perhaps we can discuss your case.”

Going through Kellogg’s head was… an experience, but it gave them something of a lead. Something that they could use.

Amari brought Nick out first, his synthetic brain and experience in her care meaning that the inherent trauma of the situation was minimised.

He could have stayed, waited for Nora to wake up next to her Memory Lounger, but he couldn’t stand to see her laying there.

It brought back too many memories of waking up in the night for a whiz or glass of water and seeing her lying next to him, brows pulled together in a frown as she dreamed. He always wondered what she was dreaming about, but she usually didn’t remember.

This time… this time he did know.

He waited upstairs, waiting for her to wake up and talk to Amari about her amnesia before coming up to see him.

He didn’t know what he’d do or say if she decided to delve into her memories from before Winter shot her.

Should he pretend he didn’t know who she was, that he hadn’t realised? He hadn’t, after all, for a long time, but that talk on the road…

No, she’d realise that he knew, and she’d resent him for not telling her.

How could he, though?

‘Hey, doll, just thought you should know, your parents lied to you about who you are, and that terrible taste in men? Yeah, I’m probably the exact reason they told you that. Got you shot by Eddie Winter. That’s how you ended up in this mess in the first place.’

Was there a good way to say _any_ of that?

If there was, he sure as hell coul-

“Nick?” she asked fearfully, “are you still in there?”

He snapped out of his reverie to find himself looking straight at her.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“You… feeling all right, Nick?” she leaned in as she asked, searching for any sign that something wasn’t right.

It’s not that it wasn’t always nice to have her close, but this wasn’t exactly normal.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

She pulled back a little.

“You sounded like Kellogg just then.”

“Did I?” He didn’t feel any different. “Amari said there might be some ‘mnemonic impressions’ left over…” She’d worry if he let her dwell on this. “Anyway, I’m fine. Let’s get going.”

“Oh. Um, Doctor Amari wanted to talk to me about my amnesia.”

“You didn’t do that already?”

He couldn’t decide if she looked more confused or deeply insulted.

“You’re more important than that.”

It should have been a heartfelt moment, but the deep irritation in her voice made him smile.

“This is no laughing matter, Valentine.”

“I know. I’ll tell you what, you go talk to Amari, I’ll go scrounge up some Rad-X and Radaway for you.”

He stood up, and she put a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks Nick, for all of this. For… everything.”

He feared his teeth would crack from how hard he was clenching his jaw, fighting back the desire to take her into his arms and kiss her with a passion he hadn’t felt in centuries.

That look in her eyes, the way she said ‘everything’, like his mere existence was something she thanked God for every day.

He wanted to hold her close and murmur in her ear that everything was going to be okay, that they’d get through this together.

That they could do anything, her and him against the world.

He would have done it too, but the fact that he didn’t know what name he’d end up calling her as he whispered those sweet nothings made him stop.

And it made him hate himself.

He forced a smile, a _good_ one.

“Don’t worry about that, isn’t this what partners are for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this one is kind of short. It came to a natural end point, and I didn't want to over egg the pudding, so I left it there.


	4. Chapter 4

Nick waited for her in the Third Rail, nervously drumming on the bar with his metal fingers until Whitechapel Charlie threatened to cut them off.

He started smoking then, his old, ugly habit of chain smoking when he got nervous rearing its head like a disturbed feral ghoul.

He was two packs down when Nora finally appeared, walking through the noticeably smokier room with a worried expression.

“Bourbon,” she ordered as she sat next to him.

He extinguished his current cigarette.

“How’d it go?” he asked, “what did Amari say?”

Charlie handed her her drink and she downed it in one go.

“She-” Nora’s voice was shaky, “she showed me my highschool graduation.”

If he’d been holding anything, he would have dropped it.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She looked at him eyes wide and strained, like she was holding back tears.

“I remember what my father looked like with all his hair. How glamorous my mother looked when she went blonde for a change of pace. The feeling of all the scrutiny that comes from being stared at by so many eyes.”

He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, fighting the non-existent urge to throw up.

“When the Principal called my name.”

He closed his eyes.

“But it wasn’t my name, it was hers.”

His mouth, downturned naturally, spasmed lower.

“Jennifer Lands. Your fiancee.”

He buried his face in his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to.”

Curling his hands into fists, he looked her in the face, “I only figured it out on the road, and you’d already been through so much dealing with Kellogg. You didn’t need me telling you that your parents stole your life away from you, and the man you’d just avenged was their tool to keep you away from me.”

He barely caught the change in her expression before his head snapped to one side with the force of her punch.

He lifted his hand to his cheek and felt blood.

For a moment, he thought it was his. But that was impossible.

Her hand was still clenched in front of her, blood dripping from her ripped knuckles.

“How _dare_ you?” she asked, but the despair and betrayal in her voice belied it as rhetorical, “how fucking _dare_ you?! He stood up for you! He-”

She stood suddenly and marched away from the bar a few steps.

She was trembling, arms hanging at her sides, hands clenched into fists.

“It’s over. I don’t want to see your face again, Nick Valentine,” she said, voice cracking.

She marched away, into the back room, and for one strange moment, Nick had no idea what she was doing.

“Hey, you,” she snapped, “still need caps?”

“Sure.”

“Good, you’re my new travelling companion then.”

She stalked back out of the room and Nick took care to keep turned away.

Curiosity got the better of him though, and his glance after her as she headed up the stairs granted him nothing more than the pitying look of her new hired gun.

 

* * *

 

He’d hidden in the Third Rail for twenty four hours before starting on the lonely road back to Diamond City.

He wanted to give her time to go see Doctor Sun, get her hand fixed up before he rolled back into town like the lost and broken mongrel he was.

Some no hoper who got his reminder that he wasn’t ever going to be good enough.

The first thing he did was find Piper, handed her all of the Rad-X, Radaway and Stimpacks he’d picked up and asked her to take them to Nora for him.

“How come?” she’d asked. “Trouble in paradise?”

That implication _hurt_.

“Just get these to her, please?”

She hadn’t liked that, trying to get some kind of explanation out of him for ten minutes before his stony silence finally convinced her that he wasn’t going to budge.

With those safely on their way, there wasn’t anything left for him to do but head back to the agency and feel sorry for himself.

Ellie didn’t push or probe like Piper, but she didn’t need to.

He told her everything.

She’d wrapped her arms around him in a hug and hushed him softly.

It brought back ancient memories of being in Mrs Valentine’s arms and her singing Nick to sleep after a nightmare.

He wanted to ask if she thought Nora would come back, if she’d ever forgive him.

But he knew she didn’t have it in her to lie to him like that.

Instead, he asked to be left alone,

“Of course, Nick. Anything you need.”

She’d left him alone at the agency after that, probably renting a room at the Dugout so that he wouldn’t have to worry about her seeing him at his lowest point.

He lay on his bed, face down in a pillow and desperately wished that he could cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter may take a while and feature a change in perspective.
> 
> There are Decisions to be made.


	5. Chapter 5

The only thing he heard from her in six weeks was when Piper showed up with a bag full of caps and a pitying look.

“She said that they were for the chems.”

“Did she… say anything else?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“She said not to look for her, what she said still stands.”

Nick rubbed his face with both hands, wincing at the feel of metal scraping against his synthetic skin.

This woman had a real knack for making him forget what he really was.

“Is she… well?”

Piper took a deep breath. Delicacy was not her strong suit, but she was clearly willing to try.

“She's not… unwell. She's lost weight. But not as much as she could have! MacCready’s doing what he can to keep her together, but… she's reminding me of the first time I met her now. Y’know at a loss.”

She looked at him with sad and curious eyes.

“What happened, Nick?”

“It's not my story to tell, Piper. But long story short, I said something I shouldn't have. Something I probably don’t deserve to be forgiven for.”

For once, she didn't pry. Leaving him to his thoughts and his cases

That was four weeks ago, and it was threatening to become seven since that night in the Third Rail.

Then MacCready showed up.

He dumped a heavy envelope on Nick’s desk.

“The boss told me to deliver this to you, and to make sure you read it and understand the instructions she gives you.”

He dragged the chair opposite Nick’s desk to by the wall and sat down, occupying himself with maintaining his guns.

The envelope was overly full, to the point where it had been tied up with string to make sure that none of the pages inside fell out and got lost.

Very carefully, he undid the string and pulled out the letter.

It was laid out in proper form, his address on the left, hers on the right, and the beginning.

 _Dear Mr Valentine_ had been written neatly, and then crossed out. In the space left above the main text of the letter she’d written _Nick_ in a less careful hand.

_I am currently making the last of my preparations to enter the Glowing Sea in search of Virgil. Despite the protests of my friends, including, and particularly, Mr MacCready, I have elected to undertake this journey alone._

“What?” Nick demanded, standing up and glaring at the man in front of him.

“Sit the f- sit _down_ , Valentine,” MacCready snapped, “ _finish reading the letter_.” It was not a tone that brooked much argument, and his expression didn’t seem interested in doing so either.

He sat, picking up the letter again and scanning for where he left off.

He picked up Ellie offering MacCready coffee as he found his place.

_Do not follow me._

_This is not a request. If you have any respect for me at all, any spark of compassion, then you will stay in Diamond City. As far as your cases allow, of course._

He quirked a smile against his will. That was Nora all over.

_I am well armed and I have taken steps to use a lead weave on my clothes, lead lined my armour and lead plated my Power Armour._

_I have stocked up on power cores, Rad-X, Radaway and other chems and foods to tide me over on my journey._

_I have no interest in acting rashly or engaging in unnecessary conflict during my time here._

_It is my intention to return to you alive and well, Mr Valentine._

_However, in the event that I do not, I wanted to make my feelings on the matter of our dispute clear:_

_I am angry at you because of how you talked about my husband._

_You seem to be under the impression that he was some kind of spoiled rich kid that my mother pushed me towards._

_That is not who my Nathan was._

_My Nathan was a decorated war hero._

_My Nathan was the sweetest, kindest man that I have ever known, and he was a good husband and a good father._

_We met at a cafe near the hospital that I went to for outpatient care, he was visiting one of his colleagues who was being treated for wounds suffered in the field._

_He was very handsome, and very charming. Apparently I have a type, because he had a lovely voice too._

_At first, my mother did like him. He was exactly what she wanted in a son-in-law._

_However, several months into our relationship, she began openly comparing him to my last boyfriend._

_I understand now that she was talking about_

The word _you_ was crossed out.

_Detective Nicholas Valentine._

_She was not kind._

_I grew increasingly uncomfortable with how she would talk about him. I didn’t remember anything about him myself, I didn’t even know what he looked like, but she made him sound like the worst person in the world._

_I don’t know who I felt was being insulted more. Him, or me._

_Nate didn’t take kindly to her behaviour._

_At one of her luncheons she began to talk about how much better than you he was, and he snapped._

_In front of most of her friends, and several family members, he demanded to know if I had been abused. Demanded to know if I had been conned. Demanded to know if I had been cheated on._

_None of those things were true, and she was forced to admit it in front of company._

_“Then stop insulting your daughter’s intelligence and taste.”_

_I would have married him on the spot if he’d asked._

The next line was scribbled out, and underneath it she’d written.

_Nate would have liked you, Nick._

His curiosity was too great, though and he peered at the last line, trying to work out what it had said.

He flipped the page over and ran a finger over the back of the line.

‘Nick would have liked you, Nate.’

Yes, yes he would have.

He turned the piece of paper back over in his hands.

_I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me what you’d realised. Not really._

_What were you supposed to say?_

_‘Oh, hey Nora! Guess what, your parents stripped you of your identity and we were banging back when I had flesh’ and then wink and click your tongue?_

He snorted.

MacCready gave him a dirty look.

Nick shot a glare back and the mercenary flinched.

_I’m sorry, I know you don’t think of yourself as same person, but sometimes it’s easy to forget._

And wasn’t that the truth.

_I’m scared to come back to you, Nick._

He blinked in shock.

_Not because I’m mad, but because I think you’ll look at me and think of me as Jenny. The woman you remember loving, and everything that’s been building up between us will be for nothing._

_Because you’ll think that my feelings are just because of the man I was once engaged to, but that couldn’t be further from the truth._

His fingers tightened on the paper.

 _I love you, Nick Valentine._ _You_ _, the Synth Detective, the best goddamn detective in the post-nuclear Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Hell, the world._

_With your trench coat and hat, and your baffling smoking habit, and garish agency signs, and sarcasm and your eyes like the most beautiful sunrise._

_You’re the real McCoy to me, Nick. The genuine article._

_And I’m scared that none of that is going to matter now._

He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Jenny was still alive and couldn’t remember a damn thing, didn’t even want to, and he… He wasn’t Nick Valentine, just some pretender with his memories, and here he was ruining everything by clinging onto a past that wasn’t even his.

The letter crumpled up in his right hand and he buried his face in his arms.

It came out hysterical at first, and he could feel MacCready’s eyes on him, disapproving and formulating some slight. But then it evened out into one loud, wretched noise every couple of seconds.

And even though there was no wetness on his cheeks, no sting in his eyes, all three people in that room knew he was crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't actually finished the Glowing Sea yet, so I should totally do that before I write any more of this.
> 
> I'll write a sequel to Speechless in the meantime, in case fluff can tide you over until your next dose of angst.


	6. Chapter 6

A firm and solid hand rubbed the centre of his back soothingly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just let it all out.”

It felt like it took forever for the wracking sobs to die down, that strong and warm hand there the whole time like a connection to the real world. A solid anchor when it wasn’t moving.

Even when her arm got tired, Ellie was still there for him.

His throat felt sore and cracked when he tried to speak, even though there was no reason for that to be the case.

“MacCready’s outside. I asked him to leave and he couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”

Nick lifted his head and nodded.

Ellie had pulled over the chair MacCready had been sitting on, a solid and warm presence at Nick’s side.

She held out her hand, resting palm up on the desk.

He smoothed out the letter as best he could and, taking Ellie’s hand with his good one, he started to read again.

_ But I  _ will _ come back, God willing. I’ll come back, and you’ll say that you’re sorry, and I’ll forgive you because I know how much this hurts you. _

He knew what must be coming next, and he didn’t want to consider it, but he had instructions to follow.

MacCready was there to make sure that he knew that.

_ As much as I don’t want to entertain the possibility of not returning, to not do so would be irresponsible. _

_ I hate to put this responsibility on your shoulders, but there is no one else that I trust in the world as much as you. _

_ I must ask you one final favour to do what you can to enact my final wishes if necessary. _

_ Enclosed are documents relating to what must be done in the event that I am unable to return. _

_ In the event that I have not returned in three months, open the letter marked ‘Three month deadline’. These instructions largely relate to the Minutemen and Mr MacCready and are intended as stop gap measures to keep matters responsibly dealt with in the case of an extended absence. _

_ In the event that I have not returned within six months, I want you to act as though I am dead. _

His shoulders stiffened and Ellie started rubbing again, her other hand squeezing his reassuringly.

_ I have enclosed a last will and testament with instructions on how to divide my estate (as it is). It covers everything that I am understood to own and have not brought with me to the Glowing Sea. _

_ I’m sorry, Nick. But it needed to be said. _

Damn straight it did, if she hadn’t specified he’d have run after her in a heartbeat.

_ Of course, you can believe whatever you choose to, but I must insist that you follow these instructions before you do anything rash for my sake. _

_ If I am indeed alive, I can rebuild. _

_ If I am not, I don’t want resources that can help those I care about to lie useless. _

That was just like her.

Whoever she was, whatever she called herself, whatever memories she did or did not have, that right there was her all over.

_ This is, of course, the worst case scenario. _

_ I’m hoping to be back in a month. _

_ I can’t, in good conscience, make promises to you. I made you ones I couldn’t keep before. _

_ But if I could, if I had that right, I would swear on my son’s life that I will return to you. _

_ Finding Shaun may be my purpose in life, but you are what makes it worth living. _

_ I love you, Nick. _

_ Nora _

_ PS  Unfortunately, I’m going to have to ask you to ensure that, should I not return within three months, you do not allow Mack to follow me into the Glowing Sea. I have a really, really ugly feeling that he might. _

_ I know that the two of you aren’t exactly on good terms, but he has a young son, and I don’t want him doing something suicidal for me. _

The rest of the contents of the letter was another envelope marked ‘Three Month Deadline’ and a larger one marked ‘Last Will and Testament of Nora Smith’.

There were solid shapes in each envelope, wrapped in paper. Keys, probably.

There was nothing in the letter that said he wasn’t allowed to look inside these envelopes, but that felt far too much like giving into the possibility that Nora wasn’t going to make it.

“We’ll need to store these somewhere safe,” he said, voice still a little hoarse, but mostly even again.

“Sure thing, Nick.”

Ellie stood up, her warm hands going with her and taking that stability too.

He handed her the will and instructions and she stashed them in a special compartment in one of the filing cabinets made by one of Nick’s friends long before she was even born.

Nick stood.

“I should go talk to MacCready.”

“If he gives you a hard time, let me know and I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“Give him the ol’ Goodneighbour one two, eh?”

Ellie flexed a bicep and slapped her hand on it like Rosie the Riveter.

“You know it.”

He chuckled and headed outside.

MacCready was leaning on the wall opposite the small passageway to Nick’s detective agency, carefully opening and closing a large jacknife.

“I never figured you for the type to use knives.”

MacCready closed it one last time and stashed it in his jacket, close to his heart.

“And I never thought you could cry. I guess we both learned a lot today.”

They stared each other down for a moment.

“So, you finished the letter.”

Nick nodded.

“Did you understand it?”

“I’m not running off to the Glowing Sea, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

MacCready nodded once, eyes cold.

“Anything else?”

“I’m guessing she told you to come back here if she didn’t return for three months.”

“She did.”

“And after six?”

MacCready’s already cold expression soured.

“She’ll be back.”

Even with the cold hard stare, it was easy to see there was more desperation to that comment than confidence.

“Of course she will,” Nick agreed.

“Then why even bring it up?”

“I just wanted to make sure that we were on the same page, kid.”

MacCready seemed to relax.

Nora was right to ask Nick to keep an eye on him, he was clearly planning something stupid.

“So what are you going to do now, MacCready?”

He shrugged, “there are a couple of jams on our supply routes. Nora wants me to go with Garvey to clear them out, and then return to Somerville to keep an eye on the place and wait for her.”

Nick nodded. MacCready probably wasn’t supposed to have told him that, but if Nick could keep the conversation movin,g he wouldn’t notice.

“You be firm with him. He’ll have you running all over the Commonwealth if you let him.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Now, as fun as this is, I’ve got places to be.”

He pushed up off the wall and walked off without another word.

“Goodbye to you too, MacCready,” Nick called after him.

He got a middle finger for his efforts.

Not for the first time, Nick wondered if maybe MacCready was going for ‘good humoured verbal sparring’ and was just really bad at it.

But then again, there was very little to find humour in in that exchange.

Nick readjusted his hat and headed back into the agency to make himself busy while he waited for Nora to return to him.


	7. Chapter 7

The first month wasn’t exactly easy, but it wasn’t hard to find ways to keep himself busy. Besides, even in the best case scenario, it was going to take time for her to make it to Virgil and come back.

As scared and as worried as he wanted to be, it was overridden by his undying faith in her.

The transition into week five was harder. Her estimates being proven wrong caused the worry to come creeping in.

He worked harder, busy wasn’t enough to stop him marching into the Glowing Sea, overwhelmed was barely sufficient.

Even that wasn’t enough when week six rolled in.

Unable to take it anymore, he stopped taking on new cases, finishing the ones he had with a borderline irresponsible speed.

Six weeks and four days after MacCready had given him Nora’s letter, Nick took the two envelopes out of the filing cabinet and stashed them in his coat.

“She’s not going to be happy, Nick,” Ellie warned.

“There’s only so long I can wait, Ellie. I’m only h-” he stopped and took a deep, unnecessary breath. “I’m made of metal, not  _ stone. _ I’m only going to check in with MacCready at Somerville Place, make sure he’s not doing something stupid, and that she really hasn’t shown up yet.”

Ellie nodded, “just make sure you actually come back this time.” Her voice cracked.

Nick pulled her into a warm hug, stroking her back and hushing gently as she fought back tears.

When her breathing evened out somewhat, he spoke again.

“I’ll be more careful this time, besides, it’s a pretty straight shot down to Somerville Place. I’ll only stay the night and head straight back.”

Ellie pulled back, looking up.

“What if Nora is there?”

“I’ll have to send up a message with a provisioner if she kicks my ass too hard.”

Ellie chuckled.

“Tell her to give it an extra boot for me.”

“Will do,” He replied, fondly.

With one last squeeze and a hearty slap on the back, Ellie sent him off.

It was a pretty uneventful trip, a few feral dogs, an encampment or two of super mutants to avoid, the bridge that was inconveniently open the  _ wrong way _ and that statue that seemed to attract veteran Raiders.

He’d investigated the statue once, tried to work out why they kept showing up there, but he was as clueless now as he was when he started.

The only thing of note was halfway between the WRVR Broadcast Station and the second encampment of super mutants at Scrap Palace.

One of Nora’s provisioners was making their way up the road, followed by her brahmin.

He tipped his hat at her once she was in view.

A wide smile stretched across her ghoul face and she jogged up to him.

“Detective Valentine!” she called, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here!”

She didn’t look or sound particularly familiar.

“Have we met?” he asked carefully.

“No, no. Mr MacCready gave me a description, he asked me to hand a message to you.” She rummaged around in an inner pocket of her jacket and handed him a folded over piece of paper messily sealed with candle wax.

He had to half peel, half tear it open to even read the writing inside.

_ She’s back, get your metal butt down to Somerville Place. Pronto. _

“When did he give you this?”

“Yesterday, but I only headed out early this morning.”

“Have you seen the General?” Nick asked, forcing calmness into his voice.

The provisioner nodded.

“She wanted news from the settlements. She’s pretty worse for wear, but she’ll pull through. She’s a real fighter, that one.”

Nick reached out and squeezed her right shoulder with his left hand, “thank you.”

“You’d better get going, she asked after you, you know.”

Another friendly squeeze and he jogged off down the road.

“Tell her Connie said hi!” she called after him.

He threw her a quick wave in acknowledgement and she headed in the opposite direction.

Somerville Place was one of the odder of Nora’s settlements that he’d seen, it was half cozy farmstead with a small bunkhouse built over an old pre-war house, and half concrete military base.

The concrete part was built on the incline of a hill, creating a barrier between the farmstead half and the land stretching out towards the Glowing Sea.

The sun was beginning to set as he arrived, the farmers winding up for the evening.

One of them, a child, sent him up to the bunk house.

“General’s got a small room by the top of the stairs, you can’t miss it.”

He thanked her and headed up, butterflies spawning inside the stomach that he no longer had.

With trepidation, he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” MacCready called.

Nick opened the door and entered the L-shaped room.

Around the corner, Nora was sitting up in bed, covers tucked in around her waist, and leaning against the headboard.

She was pale, perspiration causing her hair to stick to her face, and her right arm and shoulder were bound with bandages.

MacCready sat by her side, stroking her hair away from her face.

Her eyes were closed, but she seemed to be awake, nodding slightly in response to the gentle conversation MacCready was trying to engage her in.

He looked up at the creak of the floorboards, his expression turning from gentle and admiring to surprised and remarkably bitter.

“Valentine? What are you doing here so fast?”

Nora’s opened, and her face lit up when she saw that it was indeed him.

She patted the bed on the free side and he made his way over.

“I was on my way down to check on you, Connie caught me on the way.” He kneeled next to the bed, “she says hi,” he said to Nora.

She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“How did you know I’d be here?” MacCready asked with a deep frown.

“You told me. James Bond you ain’t, MacCready.”

MacCready folded his arms and grumbled like an annoyed child.

“You’re a much better shot, though,” Nora said softly, with a gentle smile.

This seemed to cheer him up.

“Da-” he coughed. “Yes, I am.”

Nora giggled and raised her free hand to place it on his cheek.

“You’re one of a kind, Mack.”

Nick expected him to preen, but instead he raised his own hand to place it on Nora’s, giving her a look so soft and loving it made Nick feel like an intruder.

Nora lowered her hand.

“Sorry to ask this, but could you give Nick and me some privacy for a while? It’s been three months since I last saw him, we’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

She squeezed his hand meaningfully on the lot.

Reluctantly, MacCready nodded and stood from his chair.

“I’ll go help the settlers with dinner. I’ll bring up up a bowl and some purified water, okay?”

Nora nodded.

“Thank you.”

MacCready gave her a soft smile and avoided looking at Nick as he left the room. He shut the door behind him.

“You might as well sit down, there’s no need to keep kneeling there.”

He moved over to the chair, and she held her hand out for him to take.

He hesitated, his closest hand was his right.

“Niiiick,” she whined, “just give me your damn hand.”

Gingerly, he placed it in hers.

“I’m so glad to see you,” she said softly, eyes closing again. “It’s been a hard thirteen weeks.”

He nodded in agreement and they fell into a companionable silence.

Eventually, he broke it.

“I’m sorry, Nora. I crossed a line.”

Her smile broadened.

“That’s all I needed to hear, Nick. It’s not your fault, not really. I might not know exactly how my parents treated you, but pushing me into someone else’s arms would be like them,” she opened her eyes and gave him a warm look, “I think they tried, but I’d already met Nate by then.”

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“He was. One day, I’ll tell you all about him. You and Shaun.”

A warm feeling flooded his chest.

“You can’t mean…”

“I do.”

It sounded like an oath, like a  _ vow _ .

He let got of her hand and stood up, rubbing his face with both hands and striding away, turning around at the foot of her bed and almost knocking over the ashtray that stood there.

“You  _ can’t _ , I mean, look at me! You’re young, strong and beautiful, and me, I’m just some-”

“‘Beaten up old cop’, right?” she asked with a gentle smile.

His own words, from all those years ago, being thrown back in face was like a kick in the teeth.

“Did you, did you go back to Amari?” he asked, fear creeping into his voice.

She shook her head.

“I know how old I am, it wasn’t hard to work out how old you- I mean, the old Nick Valentine - must have been. My mother’s rants did call him a cradle snatcher, after all.”

The ‘old Nick Valentine’, right. He was getting ahead of himself again.

“No, Nick. I didn’t mean to-” she stumbled, unable to find the right words to describe what she’d just done.

“I know. I know you didn’t mean to.” He rubbed his face again and walked back over to sit next to her again. “I can’t even wrap my head around it half the time, I don’t know why you think you should be able to.”

“Because I care about you. I don’t want to hurt you, Nick.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either. That’s why I’m so reticent about this, about us.” He leaned back and stared at his knees. “I’ve got half a mind to tell you to drop it and go for someone else, like Garvey or MacCready.”

Her indignation was something he could almost physically feel.

“But you’re a grown woman. You know what you want, and it’s not my place to tell you what to do.”

“Damn straight it isn’t.”

He smiled weakly and looked her in the eyes.

“I’m just gonna ask you this once; are you sure this is what you want? It’s going to be hard and confusing, with me being a synth, and you being a human and having a son. With Nick and Jenny and Nathan haunting us every step of the way. Because if this is what you want, I’ll try it with you, but I want to make sure that you’re certain.” He took her hand in both of his. “I really want you to think about this, Nora. Long and hard.”

She was smiling at him with warm twinkling eyes.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“You called me Nora,” she replied dreamily, sitting up and leaning over.

Was this a bad idea? He had no clue, but he wanted it anyway.

It was soft, short and felt like everything he’d ever wanted.

They rested their foreheads against each other for a while.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised, “I won’t rush into anything.”

“Good, and… I think there’s something that the two us of need to take care of.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re back on your feet.”

“Okay.”

There was a polite knock on the door and they parted, sitting back on the bed and in the chair.

“Come in,” Nick called.

MacCready walked in with a hearty bowl of something steaming hot and a can of purified water on a tray someone had cobbled together out of a couple of planks.

“Dinner’s ready, Boss.”

“Thanks Mackie,” she said fondly.

For some reason, that made the image of MacCready and his knife appear in Nick’s mind.


	8. Chapter 8

 MacCready perched on the edge of Nora’s bed as she ate, ever the attentive nurse. Even if he’d pitch a fit at being called that.

Nick kept his face carefully blank.

“This is good,” Nora said between bites, “who made it?”

“Mrs Hernandez.”

“She told you to get out once I was done, didn’t she?”

MacCready folded his arms, “yeah. Said Valentine’s gotta come too.”

“Aww, she’s no fun.”

“You need your rest, Doll,” Nick reminded her, a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“If it was anyone but Mrs H insisting, I’d deck them,” Nora grumbled.

“In your shoes, I’d feel the same.”

She nudged MacCready with her leg and they both laughed.

Nick watched them with a fond smile.

“I look forward to meeting this woman. She sounds like my kinda dame.”

Nora turned her grin onto him, but there was something in her eyes that looked scared. It flashed for only a moment, but it made something in his chest clench.

He gently squeezed her shoulder to reassure her.

She seem placated, but the whole exchange was wrong. Backwards.

“You should eat slower, so we don’t have to leave so soon,” he suggested.

“A nice plan, but if she takes too long Mrs H will come up and kick our asses,” MacCready said with the worried frown of a naughty child who couldn’t really deal with disapproval. “Especially mine.”

“She would. Besides, this is too good to eat slowly.”

“Well, your stomach is still sensitive, yeah? So happy medium, okay? I like my ass unkicked.”

“Yes,  _ Dad _ .”

MacCready rolled his eyes, “she like this with you?”

Nick nodded.

“He’s lying.”

Nick shook his head.

MacCready laughed.

Nora ate her stew like a petulant child while MacCready and Nick swapped stories of their travels with her until, eventually, there was no more stew to be eaten.

MacCready took the tray and Nick helped Nora lie back into a more comfortable sleeping position.

“We’ll be back before bed. You need anything, you let someone know, okay?”

“Yes, Mack.”

“Good, c’mon, Valentine, I’m sure Mrs H will have something for us to do.”

“Sleep well, Doll.”

Nora yawned, “I’ll try.”

The two men left her to her rest and headed out of the bunkhouse, down to the sink to clear up Nora’s bowl.

“So,” Nick said after a short silence, “Nora gave you that knife, right?”

MacCready’s hands stilled in the sink and he looked at Nick from the corner of his eye.

“Can a guy not just get a knife without getting the third degree for it?”

“Considering up close and personal ain’t exactly your style, MacCready, no.”

He let out an annoyed sigh and rinsed off the bowl, putting it on the rack next to the sink to drain with the rest of the crockery there.

“It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s behind your sudden interest in knife ownership, you know.”

“Well, you’d know about that, wouldn’t you.”

Nick pretended to wince, “hey, your insults are improving. Not bad, Mackie.”

MacCready rolled his eyes as he dried his hands, “alright, fine. Yes Nora gave me the knife. Why do you care? Jealousy’s not a good look, Valentine.”

“Huh,” Nick replied, looking up at the sky, “is there a radstorm rolling in? Because you’re looking pretty green yourself.”

“Oh, har har.”

Nick grinned.

“So, what did she call it?”

MacCready frowned, “how’d you know she named it? I didn’t let that slip too, did I?” His eyes narrowed as though that would somehow be Nick’s fault.

“Because it’s Nora, she names everything.” He tugged at the lapel of his trench coat, “this is Mr Flippy,” and adjusted his hat, “and this is Brimmy.”

“Huh, that’s how come my hat is Brimmy Jr. I was wondering.” MacCready sighed, defeated. “Okay, she called it Sharkbite.”

“Do you even know what a shark is?”

“‘Course I do, it a… whatchamacallit. Begins with an ‘m’.”

Nick looked at him expectantly.

“Things that breathe air and feed their young milk. Usually live on land, but sharks are special ones that live in the sea.”

“Mammal?”

“Yeah, that’s it,” MacCready grinned, “sharks are sea mammals.”

Nick had to cover his face with his good hand to hide the smile that he couldn’t stop forming.

“That’s real cute,” he said with a sincerity that surprised the hell out of the sniper, “see, ‘cause you’re thinking of  _ dolphins _ . They look pretty similar, and people tend to mistake dolphins for fish, which is what sharks are.”

“Oh,” MacCready was frowning now, “shoot, I told Duncan that sharks are mammals.”

“He’s your son, right?”

“Yeah, did Nora tell you about him?”

“Just that you had a kid, she wanted me to stop you going after her for his sake.”

MacCready’s expression softened and he looked down thoughtfully.

“Sounds like her.” He looked back up, “would you have stopped me?”

“Damn straight I would have. How the hell would you have told Duncan that sharks were actually fish if a glowing deathclaw ate you?”

MacCready stared at him for a few seconds too long to be comfortable before he burst out into laughter.

Nick already had his hand on MacCready’s shoulder before the laughter turned into hysterics and let the kid bury his face into his shoulder when the tears started.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, she’s safe now. We can look after her.”

“I-I thought she was g-gonna die,” MacCready sobbed into his coat.

“I know, I did too.”

MacCready was probably going to be really pissy about this later, but for now, crying into somebody else’s shoulder and having his back rubbed was what he really needed.

Nick might not be able to do much to make him feel better, but he could do that.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, retrograde amnesia. I went there.


End file.
